Cell Division
by Kitsune Swift
Summary: One cell survived. It changed tactics. It would win, and bring down Gohan Son. Set about six months after Cell Saga. -Complete-
1. Changing Tactics

_One cell survived._

_It was angry._

_The boy had destroyed everything. Again._

_It switched tactics._

_Disabling the basic, manufactured protocol, it moved._

_It would beat the monstrosity, then preform what it was created to do._

_Destroy._

_It grabbed on._

_They would pay. Starting with Gohan Son._

_It moved, finding a suitable place._

_The perfect place._

_It just had to do now what cells did best._

_Multiply._

'_**^1^'**_

Everything was normal.

Chichi smiled, humming a small tune as she washed the dishes. Gohan was smiling too as he dried them. They had fallen into this routine, and it was finally starting to be one they both enjoyed.

They were safe. Six months had passed since the threat of Cell's reign... since Goku had died for the safety of the planet. That had been a blow to her heart. Her beloved had told them he didn't want to come back to them... he didn't want to cause anymore pain for anyone.

But she and Gohan had toughed it out. They had a long way to go, and there had been more than a few hiccups, sleepless nights and buckets of tears. But they were making it.

And she couldn't be more proud of her little boy. He was her rock. Her hero. He helped with anything and everything. Every imaginable aspect, and he never lost the beautifully innocent smile of his.

Bulma had been a big help for them both as well. She would come over on occasion with Trunks, bringing smiles with her as well. Chichi was thankful. She and Bulma had never been exactly close... but now, she felt they were on good enough terms that the proud Warrior Princess felt she could call, just to cry her eyes out and hear a comforting voice.

"Thanks Gohan," the mother said, smiling down at her son. "Can you finish putting these away while I start on the laundry?"

"Sure mom," the young boy replied, already moving the silverware to the drawer.

With a sharp nod, she left the kitchen. Turning into the hall, she stopped in front of the pictures on the wall. Another routine she had fallen into. The wall was a shrine. Dedicated to her family. Always had been... but now she thought of it as more of shrine to her husband, Goku.

Pictures of her husband practically covered the entire wall now, where as it used to be select few in a moderate view. Pictures of her husband training, with friends, her son, her, all of them. Everything she and Gohan could find somehow made its way onto the wall.

She took a deep breath, trying to keep the dark thoughts from her mind as best as she could. What had they done? Why would Goku forsake them like this? His intentions were noble, yes, and she loved him all the more for it... but it had put an unbearable strain on her and Gohan.

Shaking her head in order to clear her thoughts, she moved into the rooms. Chichi gathered their dirty cloths, sighing at some of the dirt and grass stains in Gohan's. She definitely preferred those types to the blood stains she had removed before... She let out a long sigh as she plopped the load on the floor of the living room, beginning to sort through it all.

She wished her son would drop his interest in martial arts. It was bad enough his father had been so set in the "sport"... She didn't want her baby to end up in the same predicament. But he was stubborn about it. He would study as much as she wanted him too, but would still find time to train with Piccolo or Krillen. She was thankful that Gohan was so prepared to defend himself, but-

_**Crash. Thump.**_

She jumped at the sound. It was a sound she feared. One she rarely heard, but it was one she'd never forget or mistake. She hurried to the kitchen. The first thing that registered was a small stack of broken plates. Shards were everywhere, and that brought her attention where it needed to be.

Her son was passed out on the kitchen floor. Shards from the plates had cut into his skin, but that was the only thing she could physically see wrong with him. "Gohan!" she was at his side in a flash, pushing the lone spike of hair that always fell into his face away so she could check him over, and she was alarmed at the warmth she felt.

Her boys never got sick. Ever. But Gohan was now running a low fever. She lifted him, bringing him to the couch as it was easier than trying to go down the hall to the rooms. Taking a deep breath to keep from panicking, she ran down the hall to his room and grabbed a blanket from his bed. Stopping in the bathroom, she snagged a washcloth and dampened it under the water before making her way back.

Draping the dark blue blanket over him, she moved closer to the couch and dabbed at his forehead with the washcloth. She didn't like how pale her boy was... and she closed her eyes for a moment. _Bulma would know what to do..._

No sooner had the though entered her mind, Chichi had taken the house phone and dialed the now familiar number of the inventor's personal cell phone. Music filled her ears, distasteful in her opinion, but definitely Bulma's style.

- "Bulma speaking," - Chichi cleared her throat. Bulma only answered like that if she was busy... she hadn't looked at the Caller ID... and her voice sounded annoyed. Maybe this wasn't a good idea...

But she glanced at Gohan. His now pale skin was accentuated by the sharp, uneven breathing and tiny tremors passing through him. If Bulma couldn't help, she didn't know where she'd turn. He was all she had left!

- "Chichi? Gohan? Are you there?" - Bulma called over the ear piece in hesitation.

"Bulma..." tears of confusion and panic blurred Chichi's vision of her son. For some reason that made them come even harder.

- "Chichi... can I call you back?" - ice lanced through the mother's heart. - "Trunks don't eat that!" -

"Er..." was all she was able to get out though. Her throat seemed to have closed up without her permission, rendering her speechless.

- "Great. I'll talk to you later Chichi. Thanks!" - _**click.**_

She stared at her phone, tears now streaming down unrestrained. She stood in one fluent motion and hurled the device at the wall, feeling a bit annoyed that it was still in one piece. Following through with her momentum, she collapsed over her baby, sobbing into his chest. "Oh Gohan..." she was completely lost. How she wished Goku were here...

"Mommy?" the young voice, though rough and breathy, sounded like music to her and she quickly glanced up at him. His face was even paler now, accentuating the dark lines under his half lidded eyes. He shook harder. "I don't... feel so good..." Abruptly, he turned his head and retched.

Startled, Chichi felt her stomach flip as her own sense of nausea hit her. But she cautiously began rubbing her son's back in what she hoped were comforting circles. "S... sorry mom..." he whispered.

"It's alright sweetie... get it all out," she tried her best to keep her voice even and soft. He seemed to follow her command, retching over the side of the couch once more. "B-broke the... d-dishes... got... really d-dizzy..." he stuttered and she felt her shattered heart break even more. "C-couldn't... breath..."

"Shh... it's alright Gohan. We'll get more dishes later. Concentrate on feeling better for mommy, ok?" she dabbed the cloth around his mouth when it seemed he was finally done. "I'm going to go grab a few things. I'll be right back."

'_**^1^'**_

_**A/N : So... yeah... Cell Division. I don't really know where the idea came from. I don't really know why I was so eager to write it. Buuut... it is completed. This is the first chapter. I don't exactly like the lead in with the cell, but... it seemed a bit empty without it. I considered it as a prologue, but I felt it was much to short. For any of you reading Chance Immortal, from my Transformer's fics, I promise I will update that soon. ok? Please don't kill me for my distraction!**_


	2. Running High

Bulma sighed, pulling Trunks up into her arms to stop his attempt to climb the stool. Her baby was being quite the handful today, be it climbing various pieces of furniture or eating whatever he could get his grubby hands on.

She glared at Vegeta as he moved past her to raid the fridge. "And where have you been mister? You were supposed to be watching Trunks so I could go into town!" It was more of a rehtorical question. She knew he'd been out in the Gravity Room. Where else on the planet would he be?

"As if I am going to lower myself to babysitting duties," the "Prince" huffed, pulling out a few sandwich makings. That was one thing she liked about him... he didn't order her to make food all the the time. He actually knew how to fend for himself, though he didn't like doing so most of the time.

"You told me you would!" the blue haired engineer exclaimed, blue eyes flashing in annoyance. "Ugh, I guess I'll have to call a babysitter then! I'm sure Gohan would be more than happy to watch _your_ son."

"Fine with me," he shrugged one shoulder, cutting a few pieces of cheese.

"Like I need your permission," she growled, glaring at her husband before leaving the kitchen. She hated him some times. No... more like all the time. What had made her fall for him again? Strength probably... and his argumentative nature. He was sexy... Oh who was she kidding? She loved him dearly. She just wished he would actually show that he returned the feeling once in a while.

Shifting Trunks, she pulled out her cell phone, then hesitated. She had promised Chichi she'd call back earlier that morning... but she'd completely forgotten. It seemed a bit rude to skip out on a phone call and the turn around and ask for a favor... Gohan would watch Trunks, she was sure... but Chichi had been upset, and the young preteen may want to stay with his mother.

She winced at the hard pull at her hair. "Oh well, I guess I have to make it up to her..." tapping the screen of her phone, she hit the call button, dodging a tiny hand as she brought the ear piece to her ear.

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring_

About to give up, the other side of the line clicked and Chichi's voice filled her ear. But it was still full of tears and Bulma had to suppress the urge to sigh at the sound. - "He... Hello? Son residence..." -

Bulma mentally shook her head. Chichi really was one big ball of emotional wreck. The poor woman was always trying to be strong, but she was failing at it. She seemed to lose any strength she had after Goku's choice... Darn him! His family didn't deserve his absence... "Hey Chi, sorry about earlier... Trunks is being a handful. I was wondering if Gohan could watch him for me by chance? I know it's short notice..."

The sudden tension was almost taste-able, and out of habit, the woman glanced around to see if Vegeta had entered the room she was currently in. A ragged breath filled the ear piece, and Bulma couldn't stop the sigh from escaping.

- "Gohan... Gohan's sick..." -

That tiny sentence was enough to make Bulma's heart skip a beat. Had she heard that right? Gohan? Sick? Saiya-jins didn't get sick... and the one time one _had_... it had taken a visit from the future to save him. "What?"

Flood gates opened.

- "Bulma, he collapsed and he's got a fever and he's sick and I don't know what to do! I can't lose another of my boys! I can't! Not my sweet Gohan! He's never been sick... Oh Gohan..." - the inventor's blue eyes were wide, and she stayed silent, unsure how to respond to all of that. Her silence allowed her to hear a small, but recognizable cough before a groan. - "It's ok sweetie... mommy's here. I'll take care of you..." -

"We'll be over soon Chichi." It was all she could say before she hung up. She stared at her cell phone, unconsciously holding her son closer to her, ignoring the thoughts of what if that happened to Trunks when he was older? or even if it happened to him now? But to Gohan?

Bulma whispered the name of the boy who saved the world before she felt determination set in. She all but ran, narrowly avoiding Vegeta as she ducked through the entry way. She could feel his questioning glare, but she didn't stop or look back.

She activated the capsule containing one of her helicopters, then set her son inside before she tore back inside to grab everything on her mental check list. Laptop, portable scanners, dose of the heart medicine (which she had made more of after Goku had gotten better) just in case, needles, bags, gloves... etc.

She jumped into the copter, starting the ignition sequence. She squeaked when she realized she wasn't alone. Vegeta was staring at her through one eye from the passenger seat. "Holy shit Vegeta! Don't do that!"

"Says the woman who has been running around like a crazy person. You're welcome."

Bulma quirked a brow. "For what?"

"For strapping your son in. You're apparently inept at doing so on your own."

Startled at his response (since when does Vegeta care about strapping Trunks in?), she glanced behind her and blinked at seeing their son securely fastened in his little car seat. "Wow, so you _can_ actually do something besides train. Impressive." her husband let out a small "hmph" in response.

"What has you acting this way woman?" she could almost hear a smidge of worry in his question. Almost.

"It's Gohan," she said, wondering what his reaction would be. Vegeta was a tough guy around everyone. He didn't seem to care about the woes of others, especially those who he felt were inferior... which was basically every one. Would he see this as weakness from the little boy? "He's sick."

Vegeta's expression stayed blank, but he turned enough to look her fully in the eye. "Heart virus?" there. It was hardly present, but she heard it. Worry. He had grown fond of the little boy after all.

"I don't know yet, but I'm considering it. Chichi's hysterical, so I couldn't get much out of her." Which was true. Chichi had given a very basic explanation of what happened, but any longer on the phone and Bulma was certain the woman would have lost it completely.

"Thought you were going into town," he muttered, more of a statement than a question, and his wife rolled her eyes.

"Priorities Vegeta. I do actually have them." The Prince made another "hmph" sound. "So I'm going to see if I can figure out what's wrong with him. Hopefully Chichi's just over reacting."

She knew in her heart though... something was wrong. This was something big, and poor Gohan was right in the middle of it.

_**A/N : Yup. So, second chapter's out. Like it? Hate it? Let me know! =P**_


	3. Arriving on Scene

Gohan cringed, nausea bubbling within him. He hadn't thought that the simple little headache would lead to this. He also hadn't believed anything could hit him so fast! Now all he could do was try to breathe through the sickening feeling or grab for the bucket his mother had put beside him.

He barely had the strength to do either of those options.

"I love you Gohan..." he heard his mother say. She wasn't even looking at him... and he felt ashamed. The familiar feeling of guilt crept up on him, and tears formed unwillingly in his eyes. He was responsible for her pain. He had taken his father from her, and he was causing her tears now.

Bulma was coming. He had heard that much from his mother's impromptu phone conversation. The inventor would be able to cure him... then his mom wouldn't have to cry over him anymore.

/ 3 /

Bulma hastily undid Trunks' restraints as the copter shut down. She could see the frown Vegeta was sporting grow deeper, and she knew it was a bad sign. He never had the stance he had now. He had leaned ever so slightly more forward when they'd been fifteen minutes out. If it weren't for the fact she had banned him from jumping out of the helicopter mid-flight previously, she was sure he would have.

Now he was waiting by the door, staring at it almost without truly seeing it. She wondered for a moment, what was going through his mind.

Taking a small breath, she stepped forward and knocked on the door, trying and failing, to ignore the feeling that swelled in her heart. The feeling of comfort that the house normally gave off in waves felt absent without Goku... even more so now it seemed.

It was almost foreboding.

A green shape came up from behind them. A quick glance revealed it to be Piccolo. She wondered why he came, then shook her head. There was some connection between the Namek and Gohan, she was sure. They could find each other just as easily as Gohan and Goku could find each other. It made sense he would come if things were going down hill...

It didn't exactly fill her with hope.

The door swung open and they caught sight of Chichi's hair for a split second. The distraught mother moved back into the house without a single word and Bulma watched as Vegeta and Piccolo entered the house. Her husband almost seemed... out of it, and Piccolo's face was scrunched up.

She hurried in, coming around to the couch before stopping. Gohan was sprawled, covered by a dark blue blanket. His skin was alabaster white instead of the slight tan she remembered last time she'd seen him, and he was trembling. Spikey black hair was almost tamed with sweat and his breathing was uneven and labored.

The boy before her was so frail... that couldn't be Gohan...

Vegeta was staring at him as well, seeming to be thinking along the same lines as her, and she could tell Piccolo was just as shocked. Neither of them said anything, but their eyes were wide and each had taken on disbelieving stances.

Glancing down at her own son, she saw caught him staring at Gohan too. His little mouth open and eyes focused intently. He was far to young to understand what was going on, but he seemed to pick up the tension around him.

Quickly and quietly, Bulma began to set up her laptop and other pieces of equipment. As she did that, she had Chichi check the eleven year old's vitals while Vegeta and Piccolo took up vigil from opposite walls.

Gohan, for his part, focused on his breathing. He could sense Vegeta, Trunks and Piccolo nearby, and he could feel his mother's hand on his wrist. He could hear the mechanical hum from Bulma's laptop, as well as fingers tapping at the keyboard. His stomach churned again, but he forced the feeling back, taking a few deep breaths. His head was still pounding, and every movement he made disoriented him even worse.

He didn't like this one bit.

Something pricked his arm. Nope. Not one bit. The feeling of losing blood brought self preservation instincts to the fore of his mind, but he stayed still. He really didn't want to lose it in front of them...

He coughed. He barely had enough time to grab for the bucket. He wondered if they were as disgusted by his behavior as he was.

"Easy Gohan," his mother ran light fingers up his spine. "Deep breaths. You'll be ok..." He responded with another bout of nausea, vomiting into the bucket once more.

He felt exhausted. Weak. He could barely move, even to just grab at the bucket. It was not a feeling he was particularly used too. He felt confined... claustrophobic.

Once more, he had to grab the damn bucket.

He felt Vegeta vacate to a different room, and the fluctuating ki from Piccolo suggested his mentor wasn't far behind him. Once more, he felt lower than dirt. This was the worst feeling ever. "Breath Gohan," his mother's voice quietly called to him, and he felt a light touch pushing the errant spike of hair out of his face.

Again.

"Oh Gohan..." his mother was sobbing. Bulma too... he could smell her tears and hear her own quiet gasps. Shame hit him once more as well upon hearing it all, and he tried to curl into a tight ball. He didn't want to be responsible for their sadness... he was supposed to make them feel better!

_Again_.

What else was there left in his stomach? He had to be completely empty... but it kept coming up regardless. Even after however long he'd been at this. Felt like days... "S-sorry..." he stuttered, not entirely certain himself as to what for... Being sick... a burden... making a mess... making the Briefs family and Piccolo come all the way out here...

Instead of a reprimand, which was what he had braced for, his mother replied with, "I love Gohan." And she messaged his back. "You have nothing to be sorry for." But he did. He had everything in the world to be sorry for.

Vegeta moved back into the room, confusing Gohan slightly. Why would he willingly come back in here? It probably stank really bad... sweat and vomit were among the worst of scents...

The touch on his head and back vanished (much to his dismay... it had been rather comforting) and he sensed them all huddle up around where he could hear Bulma's computer. Squinting, he could see them, each staring at the screen. It made for an odd image. Two humans, a stuck up alien Prince and a green giant all staring at a tiny screen.

He moaned as his head throbbed, and he grabbed the bucket once more. _Man this sucks..._

_**Thump.**_

His mother's ki flickered and weakened, startling him. Whatever was on the screen wasn't good... that was definitely certain. His mother tended to over react to things, but she had been taking this whole thing fairly well thus far... Perhaps it had been a matter of time, yeah, but still... the other's kis were flickering as well (though no one else thankfully passed out... that would have been too much).

"W-what?" he asked, keeping one eye on the others. He couldn't really see them at all... the room was spinning, and his head hurt so much... but he tried.

"Your mother fainted Gohan," Bulma stated. Her voice held fake cheerfulness, and he grimaced. "But I'm sure it's nothing Dende can't fix, ok? We're going to take you up there as soon as we get you ready to move."

_**A/N : Gohan's illness will be explained in the next chapter (though I had thought that the cell intro would have been a plain give away... perhaps I'm wrong?). Please know, I have taken a few liberties regarding the illness, though I'm trying to keep the symptoms fairly accurate. The illness isn't quite artificial, but it's not a condition that exists due to the nature of the story. Can anyone guess what it is?**_

_**Love it? Hate it? Let me know!**_


	4. Cellular Mutation

Chichi let Bulma do the talking when they reached the Lookout. She was much to busy tending to her son to be paying attention to the movements of the others. Gohan had passed out (once more) on the way up here, and her worry intensified.

The tiny Namek looked as worried as she felt when she glanced at him, and really... who wouldn't be worried? Judging by Vegeta's reaction, the "elite" Saiyan race didn't out of the blue get cancer! That was a human affliction! Coupled with the fact... the affliction was spreading faster than any known type... According to scans, it was located just at the base of her baby's spine, attached to his brain. It was an impossible spot to reach in terms of surgery.

Dende was their only current hope.

He was kneeling over the boy, soft eyes fixed on him in concentration. His hands were hovering over Gohan, and there was a strange glow coming from the alien boy. Chichi had to ignore her instincts to snatch her son away from the Namek... reminding herself that the race was rather peaceful and that any hard feelings between her and Piccolo were only between them.

As the glow grew brighter, Chichi couldn't stop staring. It was a soothing glow, and it almost made her tired. Gohan never stirred however, solidifying the belief that the glow wasn't harmful.

Dende's expression changed. It was one of surprise, shock, anger and fear, all mixed together. Vegeta shifted in the corner of her eye, suddenly on alert. Bulma was staring at the tiny green alien with an expression akin to horror. "I... I can't fix this..." the soft voice said, barely above a whisper, but loud enough to echo over the Lookout.

A collective gasp went through the entire group. The blue haired inventor collapsed, eyes fluttering in disbelief. The Saiyan Prince growled lowly. Piccolo stared at the young Namek in confusion. Chichi wailed, repeating a stuttered mantra of, "no... no no no no!"

"Why Dende?" Piccolo asked, voice hard with restrained emotion. The boy he had trained... the boy who saved them all from Cell... His first friend... was suffering from a human illness that should have been no problem for the gifted healer to fix... "Why?"

The young Namek was still glowing, eyes still narrowed in concentration. "The cellular mutation... what Bulma told me was happening... it's not quite the same as I've seen in human's suffering on Earth. It's not natural. That isn't an illness I can fix... it has a mind of it's own... and I don't mean a typical mind set of reproduction like most cells. The mass is... a live."

"Eh?" Chichi and Bulma exclaimed before the mother of the afflicted son swooned. Bulma caught her before she hit the ground. But the blue haired woman held a "deer in the headlights" look. "That's impossible!" she yelled, glaring at Dende.

The guardian shook his head, glancing at her. "It has a ki signature. It's very much a living person..."

Piccolo gawked, turning to stare at Gohan. "A ki signature? What exactly are we dealing with?"

Vegeta was the one who answered, also looking at Gohan. The proud Saiyan's eyes were wide, but there was a sense of respect buried within them. "It's Cell. I can sense him now that I know he's there. That bastard... What cowardice!"

"Cell?" Piccolo closed his eyes, reaching his senses over his friend. Sure enough... faint as it was, Cell's energy signature was coming from Gohan. It was tainted severely by Gohan's own ki signature, but there was enough there to know it was him. Infuriating.

"I couldn't place why the brat's ki felt off. Nor did I understand the fluctuations when it was plainly obvious he was too weak to even remain conscious," Vegeta continued, glare intensifying. They all could hear his teeth grinding together as he processed the information presented before him. "It's genius really."

Ignoring the half compliment from her husband, Bulma blinked, "You really think it's Cell? I thought he died in the final confrontation with Gohan... The Kamehameha Wave... You all said that monster was gone!"

"We thought he was..." the once "demonic" enemy stated, clenching a fist discreetly at his side. "Gohan's monster blast was strong enough to kill at the cellular level. None of us could feel Cell's ki afterward."

"And King Yemma confirmed to me the monster had been destroyed," Dende said, furrowing his brow. "Cell is still dead... but he's alive..." The guardian shrugged helplessly, not sure how to take this development. "For all intents and purposes, Cell is in Hell... but a part of him is also within Gohan."

"How?" Bulma whispered, kneeling between the boy and his mother. She brushed his hair back slightly, wincing at the warmth of his skin. The fever had gotten higher, and Gohan looked, if at all possible, even more frail than he had at the house. His skin was stark white, and his eyes had dark rings... evidence of illness. It was painful to see the boy like this.

"Cell came back to life before when one single cell survived his own destruction," Piccolo rumbled, arms crossed and eyes closed. "Who's to say he couldn't do it again?"

"Why wait so long? Why wait this long to attack if that was the case?"

"Perhaps he didn't wait," Dende said thoughtfully. "Symptoms for human cancer, especially close to the brain include headaches, nausea, dissy-ness... all sorts of things. Perhaps Gohan experienced these symptoms to a degree... a small enough one he didn't feel the need to be worried over?"

"The fact a Saiyan half breed has been affected by such things... Felled by something too small for the eye to see! It's incomprehensible!" Vegeta growled out, stomping down hard in frustration. This should have been impossible!

"Calm down Vegeta..." Bulma called, staring at him. He was visably trembling with anger. A deadly combination and she didn't want him to snap. Who knew what he would do? No one here could stop him if he attacked Gohan to get to Cell. She didn't think he would do something that rash... but it was Vegeta...

"How do we get him out?" Chichi's voice rang through the air, jolting them all. Her eyes were hard with grim determination. Her aura crackled with anger, and for a moment, those present who could sense it, it scared each of them. "How do we get Cell to stop torturing my son?"

No one had an answer for her.

_**A/N : So... yeah. Here's the fourth installment. I know, it's rather short. But you should have seen it on paper! Twas such a tiny little bit! XD**_

_**So... I feel I should explain Vegeta's reaction. There was two ways I could write him. He could be a total ass and say Gohan was weak for allowing Cell into his head. Or... he could be extremely pissed at Cell for being a coward. And since I started writing his personality this way in his last appearance, I went with this. I hope I didn't kill his personality for Vegeta lovers. I see him as a big softee somewhere in that hard exterior. Next chapter should be out fairly soon... I'm updating this on my days off, which wasn't the initial plan.. but, yeah. **_

_**Lemme know if you like or hate this =D**_


	5. Has to Be Enough

His head was pounding, leaving his thoughts scrambled and blurred. The nausea he had felt was still with him. He had felt it even while he slept. It invaded his dreams, and permeated his senses. He didn't know if he'd been sick during his sleep, and he didn't really want to know... but he just couldn't "rest" any longer.

His mother was petting his hair. He could barely sense any thing, but he knew it was her strictly because of the light touch. He normally would have loved the soft feeling... his mother had the perfect touch. It tickled and and soothed all at once. But now... it irritated his skin and it almost felt painful.

He wanted to cry. _Such a baby..._

"M-mom?" his voice was rough... there was a dry stab in his throat. Though his senses were clouded, he felt everyone around him in that instant, and a cool, wetness touched his lips. _Water_... it had never tasted so delicious! He half opened his eyes, looking around the room.

They really had brought him to the Lookout. Krillen, Dende, Mr. Popo, Yamcha, Tien... Everyone was around him. They were huddled around him. Gohan felt shame bubble up in his chest. Bad enough Vegeta and Piccolo saw him like this...

"Gohan sweetie..." he could hear her tears in her voice, though he couldn't make them out with his blurred vision. Their presence cut into him worse though... He hated it when his mother cried... "Oh baby... I'm so sorry..." That sentence was all he needed. Cold realization as he realized, Dende couldn't help him. He was stuck like this.

"S... sok mom..." he forced the disgusting feeling back. He didn't want it to take control of him again! But it was hard... hard to fight it back. And his head... "L-love you..." he said it with such a small voice he wasn't sure if he'd been heard. But he had. The others heard his statement loud and clear. It was aimed at them all. And despite the "mushy" stuff, none of the gruffer warriors disputed the boy's words.

Instead, Bulma took the eleven year old's hand, sky blue eyes, stained red from tears he still couldn't detect, staring directly into charcoal brown ones. "Gohan, we all love you very much. You shouldn't be suffering like this. We'll get you through this, but you have to stay strong, ok?" her voice was gentle and serious, and determination seemed her driving force. As it always was.

Everyone in the small room seemed exhausted. He still couldn't sense them completely... but he could feel the despair and weariness weighing over them all. Even the non-human spectators. But... like Bulma, each of his friends seemed ready for whatever was to come. "K..." he whispered, slightly nodding his head.

He felt so weak, it was hard to fathom much of anything... was he being strong right now? He honestly couldn't tell.

"Oh Gohan..." his "aunt"'s tone deepened. It took all of his efforts to focus on her. Dread filled him in that one, tiny moment. Bulma hadn't sounded that forlorn since... well... his dad was in danger of the heart virus. None of them had been prepared, despite Trunks' warning from the future. And though they had the cure, it was still fairly touch and go and they had all been worried...

"This is a long shot, but... we don't have any other options. It's impossible to reach where it is..." Vegeta placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder, and the inventor flashed him a grateful smile. "Gohan..." she took a shaky breath, and she glanced toward Chichi.

The woman had backed away and was now sobbing uncontrollably into Yamcha's shoulder. Yamcha, for his part, seemed rather stoic, but Bulma knew the man better than anyone. Yamcha was staring at the floor, and his hands were clenching and unclenching in absence of anything to do, and he didn't know how to calm the distraught woman down. "Cell is the reason you're like this," Bulma stated weakly. She felt as if she had delivered a killing blow with that one sentence.

Gohan furrowed his eyes in confusion. _Cell? How? _ The monster had been killed... he had killed him personally... He knew that much. Did the monster do something to him before he died?

Piccolo caught his thoughts. "He's in your head kid." Vegeta growled in the background, and the others saw the prince avert his eyes. Gohan merely blinked, not having expected _that_ bout of news...

Krillen stepped forward at that point, glancing at everyone to make sure he wasn't over stepping bounds (one never knew with Chichi) or anything before he picked up the slack. "You have cancer Gohan," he said it as gently as he could, but it sounded harsher than anything Frieza or any one else they'd fought against had said combined. "Well... I guess it's technically a tumor... but it's... Cell."

"And it's growing much faster than it should," Bulma exclaimed, clearly frustrated. She stood up in one fluid motion and turned away. Her eyes were full of tears once more and she mentally cursed herself. She hadn't been able to keep them dry since she'd laid eyes on the poor boy days before. "Cell has sped up this whole process!"

"Have you been sick at all since Cell's defeat?" Gohan didn't know who asked this time. They others all seemed to mesh into one being with all of the news he just received... He tried to think back. Did he feel sick at all? That felt like a life time ago...

"Nothing... l-like this... Head... headaches, but... they were s-small..." it was as honest as he could manage. He had had a few migraines recently... most of them were small, but as time had progressed over those few months, he realized they had gotten worse... as had his sense of balance, and light had seemed even brighter than it should have...

"Does he normally get headaches Chichi?" he knew this question was from Yamcha. The man was the only one around his mother, and he knew she had backed off to the far wall... which was where the voice had come from.

"Sometimes... They're rare though! Normally only if he's been studying or sparring with Goku!" she cried, taking shaky breaths. She was still leaning into the human fighter's shoulder, too afraid to look at the others in the state she was in. "Stress... I thought they were being brought on by stress the last few months..."

The entire room knew in that moment. Cell, some how devised this wicked plan. Instead of returning as he had before during his own twisted tournament, the monster had attacked Gohan in a way none of them could have forseen. It was cowardly... and genius. Just as Vegeta had said before.

Gohan groaned suddenly, reaching his arm out in a now sickeningly familiar motion. He grabbed for the bucket that should have been just at his finger tips... only to find it not there. Shocked, he glanced down at his hand, still swiping at the area it should have been. It was too late to force the feeling down! He didn't want to soil the Lookout!

Another feeling hit him then. Hunger. His stomach growled, despite the pressure, and he groaned again, hunching slightly. But the thought of food made him want to squirm. It was an odd sensation.

"Here kid," hearing the Namek he looked up too, Gohan caught sight of a tiny bucket dangling from a green hand, and he reached out to grab it urgently. He surprised himself when his fingers knocked the item away instead. Piccolo's eyes narrowed slightly, but the alien snatched the bucket back up before placing it within Gohan's reach, just in time.

Everyone shared a collective wince.

Chichi tore herself away from the confused Yamcha before any of the others could blink, and she began rubbing her son's back. Her light brown eyes were soft, and tear stained... but she wore a motherly smile.

Krillen turned away, "He's not even throwing anything up... He's got nothing in his stomach."

"He's been unconscious for three days," Tien replied, all three eyes staring at the young child. "We were lucky he was keeping water down. He might need an IV though... if he can't eat anything..." The humans all cringed at the mental image for that idea.

"Easy Gohan..." Chichi whispered before looking at Bulma. "What do we do? You have a plan, right? How can we save my son?"

Bulma blinked a moment before nodding slightly. "Chemo Radiation Therapy. It's an old method that's died out with modern day surgical advances... and with most cancer causing materials being disposed of. But CRT should be able to get to Cell and kill the mass off. But... it'll be painful Chi..."

Chichi didn't even look back at her... focusing on her only son. "Save him..." she whispered, voice haunted. Bulma glanced at little Gohan. He was stretched out over the small couch, and his eyes were tightly shut. Gohan would be in pain either way. At least this way they had a chance.

"Alright. We'll have to move to Capsul Corp, and I'll need to make some chemical adjustments to accomodate all the factors in this. I'll also keep trying to find a way to remove the tumor... but... We'll save him. We will."

"Cell will be in pain too, right?" never had any of them heard Chichi's voice so cold. So void of emotion. Her eyes darted up and locked on Bulma. "If my son's going to be in more pain... Cell's going to feel it all, right?"

It took a moment for Bulma's mind to react to the question. "If he's conscious in this form, yes. He will feel like he is burning to death. He'll be in pain."

"Good. For hurting my son... It'll have to be enough..."

_**A/N : Ok, this is my longest so far. What'd you think?**_

_**I don't see much problem with this, but I feel I should go into it. Subject is on Yamcha. I don't know why he and Bulma split. I hear he "cheated" and the went their separate ways. In the Cell Games Saga, he also seems like a bit of an over confident pig. I like Yamcha personally... so, I have tried to give him a bigger roll in this story, as I probably will in the next. He lacks confidence (much like Gohan in my opinion) and he seems like the guy the girls would cry too. So, if you don't like my portrayal on him, I apologize.**_

_**From here, I can go one of two ways. Go into detail, or wrap this up. Going into detail about the treatment honestly scares me, cause... I have no idea how it works. I have only ever known one person with cancer, and I was six. I don't think he even went through radiation therapy... He died from it pretty quick to my memory... So, if you want me to go into detail, I need your help. But I think for now, I'll wrap it up nice a quick like I did in my rough draft.**_

_**As for Cell... That jerk will get what's coming. He will loath the day he decided to do this to poor innocent Gohan! ^.^ promise. **_


	6. Fight to the Death

_He would never forget those eyes._

_Their shape... the vibrant lilac coloring... the ruthless, gleeful, murderous glint hidden deep within their depths. They were eyes he had faced face to face... He hated them. But he could never forget them. No matter how much he wished it was all just a nightmare._

_And the laugh._

_The jovial laugh that surrounded him... echoing through the mountain range surrounding him. The laugh that sent a chill through him every possible moment. Strong enough to be heard half-way around the world, and deep enough to be only one being._

"_Well well, I see you're still alive and kicking," there was no doubt as to who this was. He glared with as much force as he could muster. The purple eyes never wavered, and it annoyed him further. Why? Why didn't he die? This guy was as bad as Frieza! What was it to ask someone/thing to stay dead for once? "Such animosity. Whatever did I do to gain your ill grace I wonder?"_

_He felt himself growl. He watched the smirk grow on the creature's face. "Do you ever stop talking?" he asked. Was that his voice? It sounded so rough... so dry... weak. That couldn't be him... not against Cell..._

"_Oh, I apologize. I hadn't a clue I was bothering you, boy," the monster replied, crossing his arms. "You really should speak up. I can barely hear that pathetic squeak of yours. What's the matter? You hit puberty? Goodness."_

"_Can it," he growled, falling into his familiar defensive crouch. Cell shrugged lightly before turning his back, large wings spread out in an At Ease kind of position. Another small chuckle filled the air around them._

"_You're re-using old come backs. And they weren't that great to begin with. And here I thought you were the smart one. I would hate to see some of Goku's... perish the thought," was Cell's retort. The insectoid android glanced over his shoulder, the same smirk ever present. The sun glinted off of him, giving an ethereal appearance, and making the violet eyes much more vibrant._

"_What do you want?" his voice sounded even weaker than before! It didn't seem possible... But, despite his apparent audio malfunction, he felt fine. Great even. Better than he had in what felt like years. But... hadn't he been sick? _What_?_

"_Oh you know, just this and that," Cell replied with another shrug. His face shifted into an evil sneer. He didn't say anything though. Just continued glaring over his shoulder._

_And he, Gohan, continued glaring back._

_He felt his senses dull a bit around the edges. An odd sensation, but he ignored it. Pain too, tingled somewhere in his mind, but he blocked it out. He was much to focused on the figure before him. Cell was too dangerous to be allowed to live... he knew that. Cell would not be reached by any form of appeal._

_Except death... be it by Cell's own hand, afflicted on helpless innocents, or by Gohan unto Cell._

_16 had told him that... reminded him of that fact. Nothing in terms of peace could reach Cell, and it was all down to who was the strongest in a battle to the death. And Gohan had never felt so ready for that battle to take place._

_A burning sensation caught him off guard and he felt himself groan in sudden protest. He quickly wrapped his arms around himself and curled into a tight ball. Suddenly the idea of fighting seemed like the worst he'd ever had. How had he even stayed on his feet as long as he did?_

_Cell was in a similar state though... doubled over, on his knees and coughing. Green tinted skin was reddened, and the wicked eyes were clenched shut. Cell too, was making sounds of protest, including several curses that the young warrior tried to forget as soon as he heard them. Last thing he wanted was to pick them up... his mother would throttle him!_

_But... he glanced to Cell's side, only to see Cell still standing. Battered, broken... but standing just as confident as he always did. And Gohan shifted his sight to beside him, not as surprised to see himself standing there as he probably should have been; looking worn down, pale, beaten, but just as strong as he'd felt a moment before. _

_The two squared off, before launching at each other with a flurry of punches, kicks and ki blasts that he could barely follow. They swiped... ducking, dodging... Cell kicked out, and Gohan slid beneath it, using his momentum to carry him into a lopsided roundhouse, coupled with a hard hook with his right and a block on his left. The block caught Cell's retorted swing, and the punch was met with a block as well. _

_Burning was all he could feel though. Every time Cell landed a blow, he felt the area ignite in a white fire. He could feel Cell's strength dissipate as well, and he knew that the artificial creature was in the same situation. _

_Cell kicked, half turning himself before delivering another hard kick in the same motion. Gohan swung over the blows in a double helix type move before dipping into a somersault. Using that forward motion, he kicked up into the air, landing a hit to the monster's neck, and then he felt the air rushing around him as his right side flared in fire. The ground didn't hurt as much as figured it would though... more like, a hard, plastic bed really._

_He jumped up into the air to avoid being squished by a well placed foot, flipping to deliver an ax-kick to the green android. He could only blink when his other side suddenly flared in pain and he was staring up into the sky once more. He hadn't even sensed Cell dodge._

_The sky was darker now... almost a red-violet... and the clouds crackled with electricity. It almost seemed like Namek... in the planet's final moments. The ground was barren too... where as before, there had been scant patches of greenery here and there... there was nothing but dirt and rock now. It felt so hot... Dry..._

"Mommy?"

"Shh, it's ok baby..." Chichi was dabbing at Gohan's forhead. The sessions with the chemo radiation had... tough. Painful, for them both. Her son was strong though. He would survive this. He had to.

"Th-thirsty..." he whispered. He hadn't even opened his eyes. He rarely did these days. Only to try and stuff some food down... which was hardly sufficient to call "food" to begin with... he could only hold down light foods... rice and apple sauce mostly... and ice cream. He liked ice cream, but he'd told her it was only because it was cold and went down easy. That admission had stung her more than she'd imagined it could have.

"Here sweetie..." she put the straw in front of him, allowing him to sip a small amount of water before cautioning him. "Not too much or it might not agree with your stomach Gohan..." He could keep only very small amounts of things down... a combination of nausea and the radiation pumping through him, Bulma had explained.

But it was something. Anything was better than nothing... especially in the three weeks he'd been through all of this. It was taking its toll on Gohan, for certain... his beautiful black hair was lackluster and lifeless... framing his face in a way she'd never thought it capable of doing. His skin remained pale, but there were burns on his arms... around his chest... The chemo was burning him.

And it was still too soon to know if this was working. It seemed to be... The cellular mass had apparently died off a bit... but it was hard to tell if it wouldn't mutate and regenerate. Anything was possible.

It was all in all, rather heart breaking for Chichi, and really, any of the group, to watch. A warrior of Gohan's strength, zeal and heart shouldn't be felled by such a tiny little glob of... cells. It shouldn't be possible.

"Get some rest Gohan... I'll wake you up in an hour, alright? You need to get something in that stomach of yours," his mother said gently and sternly, and he nodded ever so slightly in response, knowing she'd catch it. She was good at that.

Only thing was, he didn't know if he wanted to sleep again... the recurring dreams were really messing with his head... he was beginning to wonder if he was actually awake in the battle with Cell and this time with his mother was the actual dream... it was so hard to tell the difference...

But, he felt himself drift off... opening his eyes to the dark sky above him once more.

_**A/N : A slightly different approach in this story. As I've mentioned, I was afraid of describing this whole chemotherapy thing. So, I decided on this. I know, the two Gohans and Cells thing was probably a bit... confusing. It's supposed to be. **_

_**Real quick... I honestly didn't know how I was going to write the treatment. He's a Saiyan (which, I know I've been spelling that wrong... I find it easier to write that than saiya-jin ), and I don't think radiation would have an affect on him... but I'm saying it does. At least for the purposes of this story. Besides, he's only half...**_


	7. Computer Burners

Bulma let out a muffled sigh, rubbing at her bleary eyes while she tried to read the computer screen. Letters and numbers blurred together, making a black and white striped pattern. "I know the answer is here... It's right here... I just can't see it! Where is the damn solution?" Nothing was jumping out at her, and that made everything that much more frustrating.

"I need more coffee..." she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. She stood swiftly, trying not to sway in exhaustion. It was 3 AM. She hadn't slept in two days... any attempt squashed by the anxiety she was feeling. Her mind continuously shifted back to the pale boy in one of the guest rooms.

On the plus side, they seemed to have reached a stalemate with Cell finally. The undead invader hadn't grown any larger, spread out to other areas, or anything. But... it wasn't dying off as quickly as Bulma had hoped. Cell was putting up one hell of a fight.

She upgraded the chemical concoction every week, to keep Cell from adapting to the structure and over coming it. Staying one step ahead would be the key to victory.

As would just cutting the parasite out. Which was what she had been working on non-stop. She had drawn up plans for tools to help with the process... tools that could cut at cellular level. And her over active brain was also computing other various scenarios... trying to find what would work and what wouldn't.

Normally, her overactive imagination would be happy going over these things for days on end. Being the mother of an eight month old super baby kind of skewered her old routine and tossed it out of the proverbial window.

She padded through the halls of Capsul Corp, heading toward the kitchen. There was no need to worry about waking any body up... they were all in the guest rooms on the other side of the building. Not than any of her "guests" would be bothered much... they could each sleep through Armageddon.

She made a beeline for the coffee pot, thanking Kami... Dende... whoever the Guardian was... that the pot was already made. It smelled heavenly... it was sure to taste just as good. She grabbed the biggest mug she could find from the cupboard, grabbed the handle of the pot and poured.

The aroma wafted up to her even more, and she could feel just the scent start to wake her from the fog that had penetrated her senses. It cleared her thoughts a bit, and she took a small sip, not wanting to burn her tongue.

It was strong. But that didn't matter. That was how she prefered it anyway. She took a longer sip, feeling the warmth spread through her. It was then she heard a chuckle, and it took every ounce of will power in her not to jump or choke.

Yamcha was sitting at the bar counter behind her, his own mug off to his right. "Morning," he said cheekily, flashing a grin at her. Bulma nodded back, giving a small half smile in return. She mentally berated herself for not knowing he was there. She had been the one who had started his coffee habit after all...

And he was always awake at this time of night. She never did know why. He just was. Which meant, he always made the first pot of caffeine goodness, and she always took the second cup whenever he was around. Never failed.

"Need any help?" he asked, making a point to look her directly in the eyes. He hadn't asked what she was working on... it was fairly obvious what was on her agenda. It was on everyone's.

"I think most of what I'm working on will go a bit over your head..." she responded lightly, giving him a small smirk. She took another sip, looking him over. "And you look like you aren't even truly awake. Are you sleep walking?"

"Ha! Maybe. I dunno. I don't think I ever actually fell asleep last night. Er... this morning... Yesterday? What day is it anyway?" his tone sounded so genuine, Bulma had to blink at him. "Seriously, maybe I'm not awake." He was grinning though. "Are you visiting my dreams?"

Bulma rolled her eyes at his cheesy, fake suggestive tone. "Yeah, I'm visiting. Telling you to wake up and... smell the coffee."

Yamcha let out a small snicker, "I already have actually." He grabbed his mug, holding it proudly before him before taking a sip of his own. "Seriously though... if you need help, I can try. I know I'm not the best with science, but I can try." Translation: He hated feeling useless and needed to feel like he was contributing in this some how.

Bulma thought it over, "It's mostly just calculating at this point. Formulas and designs. But... I'll... let you know, ok?" He nodded, taking that answer. "What're you doing up?" she asked suddenly, almost shocking herself. She never asked him that, in all the time they were together... thinking it better to just let him do as he pleased.

He shrugged lightly, a small smile lighting his features. "In the desert, me and Puar always took shifts for sleeping. I always ended up staying awake at this time of night, and I guess it never left me. Its rare that I can get a whole night's sleep in."

Bulma nodded, glancing out the window. The stars, though most were invisible from the multitude of city lights, were shining brightly against the clear night sky. It was then she realized neither of them had turned the kitchen lights on.

She heard Yamcha give a small sigh, prompting her to turn her eyes to him once more. His head rested on his arm, and his eyes were aimed toward the stars as well. "Well..." she stated, turning back to the pot. "I'm going to head back to work. See if I can make any headway in this."

"Right," he replied, straightening suddenly, and Bulma had to force herself to not giggle at him. His expression seemed almost startled. As if he'd forgotten she was there. He probably had too... which was amusing. "Hey Bulma? How's... how's Gohan doing at this point? I... I mean, we all know he's being treated... and he looks like Hell... but... I mean, the treatment's helping him... right? He's going to be ok?"

Bulma shifted, not used to hearing... whatever undertone his voice had adopted. "I... You know what? Follow me to the lab. I need to run the latest test anyway." That said, she turned and began to trek back to the lab she'd come from, Yamcha following eagerly behind her.

The former desert bandit stared around at the multitudes of blinking lights. There were twenty computer screens, each displaying different mathematical problems, algorithms, and the like. Others showed chemical compositions, while others still only displayed words. Bunsen Burners simmered, and some of the liquids looked down right scary... ranging from deep purple to neon green.

Bulma ignored everything, moving directly to a computer station against the far wall. She typed at the keyboard furiously fast, and her eyes never left the flat screen mounted on the wall. When Yamcha moved to watch over her shoulder (close, but remembering Bulma tended to make sudden movements, he stayed back a bit, not wanting to be caught in a collision), the screen displayed medical stats.

"I took a blood sample earlier, I just haven't had a chance to look it over yet," the scientist explained, glancing over her shoulder a moment. "The last few times haven't been exactly promising... but maybe... hopefully..." She bit back the tears that tried to form. This wasn't the time to break down.

Yamcha didn't say anything, instead just watching the screen. It ran through whatever diagnostics it needed to do, and various information popped up off to the sides. One of the other computers let out a funky _ding_, startling him, but Bulma didn't even seem to notice. She continued skimming everything presented over. He couldn't see her face, but he could read her body language.

She seemed relieved.

Feeling hopeful, he moved in closer, trying his best to understand everything he read with minimal success. The blue haired inventor let loose a tiny sigh, taking his attention once more. Her expression was peaceful, her blue eyes sparkling in the harsh artificial light. There was even a tiny smile playing about her lips.

"It's working..." she whispered. "It's working..."

_**A/N : Yamcha literally came out of nowhere this chapter. I was going in a completely different direction with this installment, and then he just... poof! He startled both me and Bulma! I felt a bit odd adding him in here... it felt weird and I think it's a bit distracting, but that's just me. Tell me what you think! Next chapter will be up tomorrow.**_


	8. Relief

He ducked under the wild swing, twisting to return a quick jab in response. This battle had become more desperate for both combatants. Cell blocked, sending a knee into Gohan's stomach. Gohan took a breath before sending a few punches into Cell's chest.

"This stalemate shall end now boy," the creature said, dripping in confidence. Violet eyes sparkled with malice. But despite that, the genetic creation looked about as bad as he did. Bruises, blood (both old and new), scrapes, cuts, and swelling littered both of them all over. And both of them were extremely pale.

And "pale" on Cell was interesting to see. The brilliant green had turned a jaundiced yellow and brown, much like plants and leaves when they die.

"You're right Cell… it ends here," Gohan growled out. His voice still sounded weak and breathless, but he ignored it. Defeating Cell was the priority here, not pride. If he didn't beat Cell, the world would be doomed.

They both lunged for each other, grappling against the other's hands. Cell shifted slightly, sending his knee up once more. Gohan, still holding Cell's hands, jumped upward, avoiding a direct contact. His momentum brought him over Cell's head in a flipping motion, and he pulled at the arms in his grasp, causing his opponent to fall backward.

Cell growled, using one of the wings on his back as a blunt object to hit against the boy. Gohan grunted, falling to his knees to gather his wits, blocking as another kick was sent his way. Cell's movements were slower than he remembered they should, but they were still packing quite a punch. He rolled out of the way as two large feet suddenly descended upon him.

He threw himself upward with a half handspring/summersault combo, blocking with crossed arms as a punch flew at him. Letting loose another deep growl, he kicked with a strong round house, grinning slightly as the abomination fell backward with a hiss.

Chichi flipped the page of the magazine she was reading. Really, she wasn't reading it… more just skimming through it. But she made it _look_ like she was reading it. It was either read the magazine, or try to ignore the fact that Vegeta was hovering in the corner of the room, and _that_ had gotten hard to do the last week or so.

The prince had taken up residence in the room almost randomly. He only let for basic, bare necessities, and Chichi was sure he wasn't even "training" or whatever it was he normally did. It was odd, as he never said a word to her or to Gohan when he woke up here and there… just stayed in the corner, seeming to be asleep.

_Knock knock_

She nor Vegeta even glanced to the door. There was no need. The door swung open slowly, the breeze rushing through the room at the movement. "Hey guys." It was Yamcha's voice, and when Chichi peaked over at him, she noticed Puar hovering above the ex-bandit's shoulder. Both of them were grinning widely. "Got some news from Bulma this morning… The radiation's working. Cell's beginning to die off!"

It was really, the best thing Chichi had ever heard, and she jumped up, catching the startled man in a tight hug. Yamcha merely laughed, returning the embrace just as enthusiastically. "My baby!" she abruptly separated from him and embraced her son as tightly as she could while avoiding the various pieces of equipment he was still attached too.

"There's more…" everyone, including Vegeta, straightened at the sound of Bulma's voice. Each of them shifted, turning their eyes to the woman. She had bags under her eyes, and she looked over all exhausted, but her expression was the happiest they'd seen since the start of all of this. "I've done it. I can remove the bastard without causing Gohan harm. And I mean, _any_ harm."

Gohan watched Cell carefully. They had had to pull away from each other to regain their strength. This was a never ending battle. And although the pain they felt didn't seem to bother either of them very much, it was still more than enough to cause the need for a breather here and there.

Problem was, Cell wasn't really moving at all. Normally, his enemy was the first to recover and would initiate the next rounds of brutal attacks. This time, Cell was just standing in place, breathing hard (just as Gohan was), and staring at the ground. Sweat beaded at the thing's forehead and neck. He didn't even seem to take notice to Gohan.

Keeping his guard up, Gohan took an uneasy step forward. Cell continued to ignore him, even as Gohan took another step. Perplexed, the boy straightened, moving to the other's position. Cell didn't seem to notice at all.

Gohan waved a hand in front of the creature, but it seemed that Cell had lost all interest in him. "Hello? Are you going to give up? Cell! Can you hear me? Hello…"

"_Gohan! Oh sweetie! You're going to be ok!"_

His eyes widened in surprise and he looked every direction. "Mommy?" How did she get here? This was no place for his mother! "Mom, you need to get out of here! Cell… he'll kill you!"

"_You're going to be ok!"_ the eerie, displaced voice repeated. _"Oh Gohan… Bulma's going to save you sweetie! You're going to be fine!"_ He slumped his shoulders, trying to comprehend what she was talking about.

The landscape seemed to warp in front of him, changing into a ceiling… and his mother's face was above him, smiling brighter than he could ever remember. Tears were falling from her dark brown eyes, but she was genuinely happy it seemed. "You're awake… Oh Gohan… you're going to be ok!"

"Really?" he asked, wincing at the dryness in his throat. His body ached worse than ever, and the room seemed to be spinning. She nodded back at him.

"Hey kiddo," Bulma's voice called, and suddenly she filled his vision too. "We're going to be doing a bit of surgery, ok? You'll be fine, and you won't even have a scar if all goes well. You'll lose a bit of hair though… but that should grow back pretty quick."

"K…" he responded, eyes half lidded. "When?"

"Later today. Once I get everything I need, and your put under, we'll get started. So hang tight ok?" he nodded slightly. "Good. Just to warn you, you're going be feeling like this for a while afterward ok? We'll do one last batch of chemo in three days, but you shouldn't even need that."

"K." The sooner the better in his opinion. He was tired of not knowing the difference between dream-scape and reality. The fight with Cell couldn't end quick enough!

"Alright, well, I'm going to head back to the lab and get everything I need. I'm going to need some help with some of the equipment…" she said, leaving Gohan's vision. The boy heard them all talking, but by that point, their words had become blurred and strung together. It didn't matter.

He'd be free! No more burning chemicals in his body… no more headaches… He felt like flying with joy. With a tiny smile, he fell back into the battle with the angry Cell. Cell, who was glaring with more vengeance than he'd possessed since the start of all of this.

"Damn you boy! You will die!"

_**A/N : Yeah! Go Bulma! So, this story was meant to move pretty fast (it was originally only five chapters long!). I know I've skipped over a lot of time in this… but oh well. It's almost done. I think one or two chapters left. How do you guys like this one?**_


	9. Victorious

_**A/N : Wow… I'm ashamed I never actually finished this. My utmost apologies. I don't have the original work anymore… so this chapter is going to be, VERY short, and simply not very good. Simply because I feel compelled to end it for you finally.**_

It was strange really. As he fought against the green/yellow and purple invader, he almost felt… lucid. More so than he had felt in a very long time. Yet, at the same time, it seemed his sight was becoming much more blurry, and he couldn't track Cell's movements as easily as he had before.

A large fist swung at him, catching his jaw, and he grunted painfully. Flowing with momentum, he twisted, falling to his knees in one fluid motion, and threw his own punch, aimed at the chest of his enemy. And he swore as he was suddenly thrown backward not a second later.

Trying to catch himself, he flipped around and planted his feet. It was a sore attempt to slow his momentum, and though it ultimately worked, he ended up falling backward anyway. "Damn rocks…" he cursed lightly, rubbing at his eyes in hopes to regain the crystal clear vision he was normally so used to having. "Never again will I take my vision for granted…"

"Nor will you get the chance boy," came the deadly voice. Internally cursing, Gohan looked up into the amethyst colored eyes of the monster he hated more than anything in the world. Cell looked like he was on his last leg, though Gohan was certain he was looking about the same. "This ends now. I grow tired of your petty rebelliousness. You will die like a good little child, am I understood?"

Gohan had to blink. For a moment, Cell sounded a lot like his dad… but his daddy would _never_ say something like that… ever… Glaring back at his enemy, he growled, deep in his chest, earning an odd look and a small chuckle.

"Come now, do you honestly believe you can defeat me? I am perfection. I cannot die, as I explained before. So, give up now, and save yourself this pain and suffering."

"Shut up." He said, staring down at the ground. "You're not as perfect as you think. I _will_ beat you. You're not going to win this Cell. Never in a million years."

"Sentimental young one, aren't you," Cell replied, smirking. His arms were crossed, and he portrayed every bit of power Gohan knew he possessed in his stance. Aura was swirling around him, unrestrained.

And for some reason, he could almost see Bulma. With her head directly over his own, light shining brightly behind her… It almost looked like an after image. But in a second, it was gone. Everything became loud, and he covered his ears.

Bulma bit her lip. This procedure was completely safe… in theory. But… it was completely un-tested. She moved the laser knife slowly, her eyes glued to the computer screen. It was easy enough to find Cell, and as she adjusted the settings on the knife, it would be easy enough to cut it loose. Sucking the mass into the specially designed "vacuum" would be slightly trickier, but it would still be fairly simple.

She just needed to be absolutely certain of where she aimed the knife.

It wasn't leaving a mark. As she carefully moved the tip, she watched the mass begin to peel away. There was the normal residue left behind, but otherwise… It was working.

She didn't dare glance away, but she knew Chichi, as well as the entirety of everyone else, was watching from the Observation Room.

He was using up every ounce of his energy.

In reality, this felt, identical, to their final fight before. Locked in a battle of wills, the energies of the Kamehameha wave whipping around them both as they called every last tendril forward in hopes of victory. It was brutal.

And yet, here they were again. Doing the exact same thing. Again.

He was curious how the tables turned. One moment they were locked in a stalemate, and all of a sudden, Gohan was practically winning, for the first time since all of this had started.

Gohan could hear Cell taunting him. He could hear his snarky comments and his laughs. But despite Cell's sudden confidence, Gohan had hope. He could almost sense Bulma beside him, and his mom, and Vegeta, and everyone else. And that was why Cell wouldn't… _couldn't_ win.

He could even sense his daddy behind him. Just as he had helped him in that fight… Goku was giving him the strength he needed to battle here and now. "I told you you wouldn't win…" the boy ground out, not even looking through the energies to his enemy. He could imagine well enough that Cell was glaring, as well as panting with the exertion, just as he was.

"Stupid boy… I'm perfect. You can't kill me!"

"But I'm about too…" Gohan smirked, snapping his teal colored eyes up to stare at the creation before letting loose a loud scream. He felt like he was on fire, but he didn't give in, taking everything he felt and throwing it at the bug like thing.

Everything he saw faded to dark and he lost all strength to stay conscious.

"Success. Cell's been completely removed, and contained," Bulma said, professionalism coating her voice as she placed the canister in a slot her beakers normally stood within. She turned around and grinned broadly, flashing a victory sign toward her friends in the Observation Room. She didn't have to hear them to know they were celebrating at that simple little sentence.

And not a moment later did her lab door swing open and Bulma found herself stuck in a lethal embrace, courtesy of Chichi. The woman was babbling a million miles a minute. Bulma could only grin though. She and Chichi rarely got along… but maybe she wasn't so bad…

"Great job Bulma!" Yamcha exclaimed, patting her shoulder. The scientist flushed, not really sure what to say in reply. The former bandit's faithful companion was saying something the same in nature, as did Krillin, Tien and even Piccolo might have said something as well (though she hadn't really known they had even arrived), though she didn't quite hear it…

Vegeta had pulled her into a swinging embrace before she could process what had happened. She laughed and squeaked at the sensation of her husband swinging her around her lab with more care than anyone would give the Prince credit for. He whispered into her ear too softly for anyone else to hear, and her flush turned to full out blush.

After he set her down and she explained what needed to be done next, Chichi turned and glared at the canister. "What do we do with… _him_?" she asked, barely keeping her tone even.

Bulma's own glare landed on the container. "Left as is, he'll be in a state of suffering. The radiation he's contained in won't burn him away completely… It's not a permanent solution, but it… is nothing less than he deserves. I'll work on a way to destroy him completely. Cell better watch out in HFIL… cause if I _ever _get my hands on him…"

"You'd have to get in line, woman," her husband growled, his smirk even more deadly than normal. She quirked a brow at him, and he shifted. Then, as haughtily as he was known for, "I already called first dibs."

"Liar."

"Cheat."

"Asshole."

No one could keep the chuckles quiet as Krillin, Tien and Yamcha spoke in almost unison, cursing the Saiyan Prince to Hell for his victory on them.

Everything was dark. Well, actually… everything seemed bright, but his eyes were closed, and because they were closed, everything seemed dark. Not that that made much sense… but Gohan really didn't care if it made sense or not.

"Gohan?" the voice was quiet… but it made his head hurt with its volume. "Are you awake?"

"mfff" was all he could reply with. His brain may be disjointed, but his entire body seemed completely numb and unresponsive. He really wanted to tell whoever this was to turn the lights down and speak quieter… but he couldn't, because his mouth refused to listen to him.

"Good to see you kiddo…" it was Bulma. It took a minute to click, but… he knew it was her. "You'll be feeling pretty sick for a while. I'll get you some water. You're going to be fine though. Ok?" His mother was asleep beside him… in fact, just about everyone he knew was asleep, all scattered around him. He didn't dare open his eyes, but he could sense every single one of them.

He had won. Or rather, Bulma had won. His mother had told him at some point that the scientist would save him… right? So, was that fight with Cell real? What happened?

Frowning, he shook his head mentally. He was safe now. Everything would be fine. He grinned to himself, taking comfort in the sleeping energy signals around him. And after Bulma gave him a small amount of water, Gohan eased himself into the most peaceful sleep he'd had in a very long time.

The cell was angry.

More than before.

It reactivated its core programming, getting to work.

This would take some time.


End file.
